


Spectre

by aquarelle05



Category: The Evil Within, The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Ruru bad, Don't listen to Ruru Seb, M/M, No Seb don't listen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquarelle05/pseuds/aquarelle05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruvik’s grip tightened, squeezed. Fingers closed around the skin, not enough to stop him from breathing. But Sebastian understood the threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spectre

“ **Fuck**.” He coughed, hand touching the raw skin of his neck carefully. He still felt those hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing, pressing him back against metal bars.

Sebastian’s heart pounded against his ribcage, felt like it’d tear out of his chest. His palms were sweaty -bad for holding his gun-, shaking. Dammit. His eyes looked around him as the elevator went down, never still, sometimes staying on the long arms on the floor a few seconds, fingers bony and white over the dark, rusted metal.

A finger twitched.

He checked his pockets, looked for bullets. After checking the cylinder of his handgun half a dozen times, he pulled back the hammer. The _‘click’_ sound calmed him a bit.

All sense of comfort died when the elevator came to a shrieking stop.

 _‘Goddammit, what now..?’_ For a second, his heart halted. He grunted, stood, held his breathe. Sebastian’s finger curled, grazed the trigger. Eyes darted left and right, head turning to look behind him. A violent shake sent him stumbling sideways…iron bent, screeched, _broke_.

Ruvik’s eyes were cold shards of ice, sharp and deadly. As he walked towards him, he made no sound; for every step he took, Sebastian’s breathe grew shakier. Everything was closing in on him. He couldn’t move, hands clutched his sides, his arms, his legs. He could only watch the hooded figure as it neared, vicious burns covering legs and chest and face.

_‘Am I going to die?’_

A pale hand pressed against his shoulder. A dozen needles buried themselves in his head. The ringing in his head became louder, blood pounded on the back of his skull. Finger’s curled, closed on his flesh. The headache turned worse, worse, _worse_ , until he felt his head might crack in two. Images of fire invaded his mind, flashed, one moment there and the next gone. A girl screaming. Blood, blood, blood so much blood in his hands, dripping and pooling at his feet as barbed wire ran up his legs.

A sea of yellow. A burning barn. Rotting flesh. Darkness. The voice of a younger Ruben mixed with his, _‘Am I going to die?’_

All the while, Ruvik watched, burnt face mere millimetres away from his own, light-blue malice in his eyes.

“Stop fighting me.” The words were a whisper, an offer, a command. Sebastian wanted to fight it …but he was so tired and sick of it. One step, he was one step to falling off the precipice. _‘Too much. It’s too much.’_

Ruvik leaned in, pressing their lips firmly together.

And then he was falling, and he didn’t care.

-o-

“Well, that was messy.” Joseph’s body _was_ a bloody mess; Sebastian didn’t even remember where he’d found the axe.

He wrapped his hand around the wooden back of handle, pulled hard. Flesh tore and cervical bones popped, but the head didn’t come out. He grunted, placed a foot on Joseph’s –no, the _corpse’s_ \- back. Both hands gripping firmly, he pulled again, knuckles white.

When the blade came out, dozens of tiny droplets of blood dotted his shoes and trousers. A few even reached the ghastly figure standing a few feet away, naked feet a glaring contrast with the black pool of blood beneath them.

 “Quite messy, yes.” As Ruvik neared, no footprints were left behind. “We still have Kidman to deal with. And Mr. Withers-”

“Is not to be harmed. Got it. Heard you the first dozen times, Ruvik.”

“Good.” The corners of burnt lips pulled up slightly, the beginning of a smirk. “You understand you live for as long as he does, then?”

Sebastian shrugged.

A grotesquely burnt hand grazed his cheek almost lovingly before slowly sliding down his jawline. He felt every bump of deformed flesh until graceful fingers grasped his neck. “And if you betray me…”

Ruvik’s grip tightened, squeezed. Fingers closed around the skin, not enough to stop him from breathing. But Sebastian understood the threat. “I won’t.”

The hand travelled down his chest before falling, limp at Ruvik’s side.

 “I’ll hold you to that promise, detective.” Lips brushed his as he quietly said those words. Sebastian mind was blank as he stared down into those intense light blue eyes. And when he licked his lips, they _–“accidentally”_ \- grazed Ruvik’s.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. Was he smiling? Fingers caressed his jawline, a thumb wiping a small red drop from his cheek. He followed the burnt digit when Ruvik placed it on his mouth, pink tongue darting out to lick the blood clean.

Definitely smiling.

Sebastian leaned down, intent to close the gap between their lips, eyes locked with Ruvik’s own.

A blink and they were gone, along with Ruvik. It was all he could do to not scream in frustration.

He leaned back against the cracked wall, shotgun pressing uncomfortably on his back and shoulders. “Little bastard, why does he always do that?” But he knew. He huffed his annoyance; he couldn’t help but get the feeling that a certain someone was laughing at him.

The words rang in his mind, loud and clear.

_‘Don't you remember? You’re mine, to do with as I please.’_

**Author's Note:**

> so, hated it? loved it? Also, yeah, changed the title. Wrote it in a rush and it sounded horrible and it pissed me off.


End file.
